


Any Port in a Storm

by MrFrank



Series: Book One Missing Scenes [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen, The Revelation Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 11:19:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2227104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrFrank/pseuds/MrFrank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They had covered a dozen city blocks before they noticed the chi blockers were not following them, and had gone half as many again before they felt safe enough to stop and catch their breath. They huddled together under the meager shelter of a bus stop, trying to wrap their minds around what they had just witnessed." </p><p>"The Revelation" Missing Scene</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Port in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever suddenly find your love a series rekindled without warning? Because that's happening to me, and as a result I've been rewatching the first season with gusto :) However, while there is so much I love about LoK, there were some things I was less thrilled with (I need character feelings, dammit!) This is just my attempt to mush a little more mush into 'The Revelation' and fill in some of the emotional gaps that left my angst tank low. I may do more of these as I keep watching, so if you like them let me know!

    They had covered a dozen city blocks before they noticed the chi blockers were not following them, and had gone half as many again before they felt safe enough to stop and catch their breath. They huddled together under the meager shelter of a bus stop, trying to wrap their minds around what they had just witnessed.

    “It can’t be real,” Korra whispered, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “No one can take away another person’s bending like that. Especially a non-bender.”

    “But he can, and he did,” Mako said, his voice flat. He remained standing, back held painfully straight, as if relaxing in that moment was a physical impossibility. His gaze was trained on Bolin, who was in turn gazing off into the night. The earthbender hadn’t said a word since they’d lost the chi blockers.

    “But how?” Korra asked. “How can someone do that? How can they—I mean, he just _took_ their bending. How could he even _want_ to do that? I know people don’t like benders, but do they hate them that much?”

    “I don’t know,” Mako said.

    “What they’re doing, it’s wrong!” her voice hitched, pitch rising with her anger. “To take someone’s bending away isn’t going to make any one less oppressed, it’s just hurting people! Those men, I know they were criminals, but did they deserve _that_? To lose your bending—it’s like losing the very essence of who you are!”

    “Bolin, are you alright?”

    Korra looked up to see Bolin stumble. Mako grabbed his arm, steadying him.

    “Yeah, sorry,” Bolin mumbled. “Just tired.”

    _More like exhausted,_ Korra thought, as she finally took a moment to take in her friend’s appearance. The earthbender’s eyes were red with lack of sleep, face pale. A bruise stood out along his jaw, and she could just make out a small burn disappearing under his collar, likely from one of those chi blocker’s batons. Red and purple marred his wrists where he’d been bound, possibly for as long as it had taken them to find him.

    Something painful lurched in Korra’s chest. They had taken a long time to find him, almost _too_ long. Fear shadowed Bolin’s eyes, and Korra realized that, as terrifying as it was to see a bender stripped of his powers, it must have been so much worse for her friend.

    He’d almost become one of them.

    “I’m so sorry, Bolin,” she said.

    “For what? You rescued me, why would you be sorry for that?”

    “We should have been there sooner.”

    “But you were there,” Bolin said softly. “That’s what matters.”

    “No, she’s right.” Mako’s voice was strained. “I should have known something was wrong sooner.”

    “I was the one who made the mistake, Mako. I chose to go with Shady Shin when I shouldn’t have. Getting caught was my fault.”

    “Why did you go with him?” Mako snapped. “I thought we’d both agreed we were done with them.”

    When Bolin hesitated Mako grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

    “I’m sorry,” Bolin mumbled into his brother’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking.

    “It’s not your fault,” Mako whispered. “I should have been there.”

    As Mako sucked in a shaking breath Korra was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling she was intruding on something incredibly private. She slipped away carefully, joining Naga outside the little bus shelter. A warm, damp nose pressed against her shoulder in greeting.

    “Hey girl,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around the polarbear dog’s large head. “Thank you for helping me save him.”

    Naga huffed, and as Korra sank into a sitting position beside the bus shelter Naga sank with her, resting her head in the waterbender’s lap. She could hear the soft sounds of shuddering breaths, Bolin’s timid, “I was so scared,” and Mako whispering “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again.

    Eventually they fell quiet. Korra waited, giving them their space. When the fear from earlier began to creep back into her stomach she finally moved, returning uncertainly to the comfort of the only real friends she’d ever had.

    She found them sitting on one of the shelter’s benches, now both of them red eyed. Mako’s arm wrapped tightly around his brother’s shoulders as Bolin leaned into him, eyes drooping. As she approached them Mako’s gaze rose to meet hers.

    “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, “for helping me save him.”

    A lump rose in her throat. She swallowed twice before she could manage a quiet,

    “Of course.” She allowed the silence to linger between them for a few minutes, composing herself before she offered a gentle, “Let’s get you guys home.”

    What she really wanted to say was ‘Come home with me.’ She wanted them on Air Temple Island, wanted them sleeping in the room beside hers, maybe not even that far away. She wanted them where she could see them, could remind herself again and again that they were here, that they were safe, that Bolin had not lost the one thing that he could never, never replace.

    But they just looked so tired, and the mention of home had Mako’s eyes lighting up in a way that Korra wouldn’t want to ruin with an argument about where they should sleep for the night.

    They climbed onto Naga’s back, this time with Bolin sandwiched between them, and wound their way towards the pro-bending arena. Along the shore of Yue Bay it lit up the night, like a golden beacon beckoning them home.

    Bolin struggled to keep his eyes open as they entered the arena’s small back door. Together Mako and Korra maneuvered him up to the brothers’ small apartment and onto their worn couch. By the time Mako was tucking a blanket around his shoulders, Bolin was asleep.

    Running a hand through his hair, Mako dropped down heavily beside the couch. He jostled Bolin lightly as he fell, one of the earthbender’s hands slipping out from below his blanket. Mako reached for it, tucking dust caked fingers between his gloved palms. For a long moment he gazed off into nothingness, and then a small sound escaped him, a pained little huff, and he screwed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead against his brother’s hand. He sighed, a heavy, shuddering breath that seemed to come from the depths of his very soul.

    Korra hovered uncertainly in the middle of their small home. Once again she felt like she was intruding on something she wasn’t supposed to see. Her hands fumbled against one another until one of them lifted, her thumb jerking over her shoulder.

    “I should probably go,” she started to mumble, only to trail off uncertainly when amber eyes rose to meet hers.

    “Can you stay? For a minute?”

    Korra swallowed. Mako’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears and the need to not be alone just yet. Twenty-four hours ago it was an expression she never would have imagined seeing on his face. Now it was just a wrenching reminder of what he’d almost lost tonight. What they’d both almost lost.

    She nodded, a single, jerking movement, and then slowly joined him beside the couch. The air between them thrummed with tension. Mako wasn’t a person given to emotional outbursts; not once in the time that she’d known him had see ever seen him look anything but faintly worried, or frustrated, or, in rare moments, almost satisfied. Even in the Equalist hideout he’d remained more calm and collected then she would have thought possible.

    But now the danger was passed, and whatever walls he’d used to keep the panic in were starting to crumble. Another shuddering breath escaped him as he pressed his brother’s fingers to his lips, his nose, his brow. His thumb rubbed circles against knuckles split and bloodied in their escape. Korra was close enough to feel that he was trembling.

    “It’s okay,” she whispered softly. “Mako, we got him. He’s safe.”

    “Yeah, I know.”

    He pressed his face into Bolin’s hand, and whatever remained of his stoic walls finally fell. Quiet, breathy sobs shook his shoulders as hot tears carved tracks through the grime that darkened his face. Korra hesitated for a moment before wrapping her arms around him, and then she too was crying, her face buried in Mako’s shoulder to muffle the sound.

    When their tears were spent they huddled quietly, taking comfort from simply being together. In a whisper, Mako began to tell her stories about when he and his brother were young, how they would trick little old ladies into giving them money or food, or how they’d fallen asleep in alleys, laying just like they were now, because one had gotten sick, or they hadn’t been able to find enough to eat. Little anecdotal reminders that things had been bad before, and that, like then, Mako still managed to keep his little brother safe.

    Korra whispered back stories of white lotus guards and rigorous firebending practices at the age of six, and of the few times her father managed to sneak her away to go hunting with him, just father and daughter. They were rambling and pointless, but eventually Mako was laughing softly as she recounted the pranks Master Katara taught her when no one was around to tell them it wasn’t proper.

    It was late (or early) when Korra finally left, realizing that she really ought to let Tenzin know where she is. Mako had fallen asleep, forehead pressed against Bolin’s, and she kissed both their cheeks before returning to Naga.

    Away from the comfort of her friends, the fear she’d managed to tuck away began to return again. It’s churning and painful, and it makes her want to turn and run all the way back to the brothers and their couch. But she can’t—Tenzin has to know what she saw tonight, what terrible truth she'd learned about the Equalists, what kind of threat they _really_ possess.

    She thinks of this, and she thinks of herself, and she thinks of Bolin and Mako, and fear grips her so tightly it hurts.

    _What have we gotten ourselves in to?_ she thinks, knowing she really,  _really,_ doesn't want to know the answer.


End file.
